


Just Give Me a Reason

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fem!Stiles - Freeform, pregnant fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-30
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-11-15 08:00:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the record, Stiles has been sexually involved with Derek since graduating junior year. Of high school, she means, not college. And currently, senior graduation is barely five months away and Stiles has gone and done the impressive and gotten pregnant.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Give Me a Reason

**Author's Note:**

> My personal take on the whole "fem!Stiles is shacking up with Derek and gets pregnant" trope.
> 
> Also, the idea of fem!Stiles being totally overwhelmed by hormones, and just kinda crazy in general, and bursting into tears while Derek stands awkward on her porch is so funny to me.

“Dude—what—since when have you been having sex with Derek? Dude!? Gross!”

Stiles wales, burying her face in his pillows again because really Scott is the worst friend ever.

)

For the record, Stiles has been sexually involved with Derek since graduating junior year. Of high school, she means, not college. And currently, senior graduation is barely five months away and Stiles has gone and done the impressive and gotten pregnant.

(Which is why Scott is such a bad friend because instead of getting her ice cream like she asked, Scott just complained about the mental images of his Alpha fucking his best friend.)

)

Lydia isn’t much better, but at least Lydia is a girl, so she kind of understands. Mind you, she’s a girl one year into MIT having skipped the last two years of high school entirely to head cross country to exert her superiority. Stiles calls her blubbering and snot-faced on Skype, and Lydia listens and coo’s and even calls her gorgeous with her hair pulled back. Lydia also, still, mocks the shaved sides and says that’s so Miley Cyrus when the new ‘in’ look is totally Chloe Grace-Moretz’s flowing curly  _curls_.

)

Stiles decides she basically has the worst friends ever. Boyd doesn’t care, Erica just calls her stupid, Isaac is  _far_ too excited for something that never should’ve happened; Alison, who isn’t much of a friend anymore anyways, just gives a feeble ‘sorry’ and Jackson laughs until Stiles punches him in the balls and can laugh back before bursting into tears again.

)

_Knock_.

Stiles groans, holding her stomach though she isn’t showing and probably won’t for at least another two months. Melissa has been stellar about the whole thing, and actually talked the Sheriff down from going after Derek with a gun—so long as Stiles promised to take this seriously. Which, yeah, taken care of.

(To be fair, ditching all pack meetings and ignoring all of Derek’s calls for two months since that fateful  _Juno_ -esque morning with too much orange juice and indie music, isn’t very grown up. But it was better than throwing herself at Derek’s feet and begging for forgiveness for something that was by all counts _his_  fault.)

_Knock, knock, knock, knock_.

It becomes a steady, incessant thudding that has Stiles rolling herself down the stairs and to the door. “What do you want?” She asks as she blinks, and when her eyes come into focus she’s staring at Derek’s soaked chest. “Jesus fucking—have you been standing in the rain for a couple hours?”

The look Derek gives her says ‘yes, because I couldn’t decide whether or not to come talk to you.’ And, Stiles briefly considers the fact she knows that’s what Derek isn’t saying, and what that means, and she grabs her stomach.

A movement that Derek watches like a hawk. Then, he’s speaking. “Were you trying to hide it from me?”

Stiles gulps in air like a fish on the shore. “Uh, I mean, I didn’t think you’d care? About it. Because, you know, sex. Just sex, that sort of thing. For fun!” Stiles tries to be nonchalant and lean against the doorway, but her legs are shaking and her heart is beating so fast it’s hard to breath.

“You thought I wouldn’t  _care_?”

Stiles meeps. “My bad? I mean, I figured what we had was easy, and a kid—a kid isn’t easy. And I didn’t want you to get angry at me, or, or make me leave the pack, or… I dunno.”

Derek looks like he’s brimming with questions—all of which flit across his face in multiple twists of expressions, each one Stiles can read.

_Were you ever going to tell me?_

_What made you decide to keep it?_

_Where you going to hide until it was over?_

_What am I to you?_

Stiles sighs and scrubs a hand over her face. “Look, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you, and it’s unfair that I didn’t.”

Derek nods. Then, he’s tense and awkward again. “I. I brought you.” Derek nods again, and procures a plastic bag from behind his back. The bag, like himself, is soaking wet with rain but full of ice cream and goodies and a five-in-one movie deal with really terrible sci-fi movies that Stiles loves.

Stiles peeks into the bag and bursts into tears. Which doesn’t help Derek’s awkward, stricken face, but it’s the good sort of crying.

“Look, Stiles, I,” Derek takes a step inside, “I don’t—I shouldn’t have given you the impression that all I wanted was—this. That. Before.” Derek closes the door behind him. “I wasn’t sure how to bring it up.” Derek admits, flushed red though Stiles is still sobbing like a bad soap actress. “But, I can’t avoid it anymore. And I want this. With you. If you’ll let me.”

The plastic bag and all its contents fall to the ground, and Stiles throws herself at Derek to cry on him instead of at him. “You’re such an asshole I can’t believe I was worried you’d be angry.” She shouts against his neck and holds him tighter. “You’re coming to the next appointment with me, and we’re making a nursery in the house, and we’re gonna pick out names together and after I finish college you’re gonna propose to me and our kid is gonna be the best half-werewolf ever and  _oh my god do they come out furry like little puppies?_ ”

And Derek, lots of brownie points to him, for simply holding Stiles in her glorious downward spiral of hormones. Holds her, kisses her, and smiles.


End file.
